Tonight, Tonight (Peter) -FIN-

[OSRIC YOUNG]

Osric had been friends with Charlie since the two had met in college. He’d been one of his English Lit buddies. Charlie was now an high school English teacher who played percussion in a band with some of his teacher friends for fun. Osric was truly happy for him, because he was doing something he loved. It was wonderful to do things that you loved, he knew that first hand. Unfortunately for Charlie, his lead guitarist and vocalist in his group was currently laid up with flu, and so Charlie had phoned and asked Osric to stand in for the gig that they had this week. Osric had happily accepted.

They were playing at a place called O’Bannon’s, a nice little Irish pub. Osric had never been there, but he was excited to go. Charlie picked him up at his house at around eight, and on the way there they talked about Charlie’s new job and his band and Charlie’s girlfriend who he told Osric he believed was ‘the one.’ Osric nodded a lot and then asked Charlie about the set they were playing. They were mostly 80s music, songs that most thirty and forty-year-olds would recognize. Osric liked them well enough.

Once they got there, Osric marveled at the little trinkets hanging on every free space on the wall. He bet they were really special. Sal, the manager of the pub, greeted them cheerfully and showed them to the raised platform, where they were to play tonight. Charlie joked and laughed with him, so Osric assumed his group had played here before. A few minutes later they were ready to go and Charlie introduced the group to the people in the place.

“Hey. We’re Old School, and I’m Charlie. We uh, we’re sorry to say our lead singer Matt’s sick today, so we’ve got a replacement for ya tonight. This is Osric Young, one of my college buddies, he’s pretty good so, yeah. We’ll see how this goes. Thanks,” Charlie finished his short introduction and nodded before going to the left of the stage where his keyboard stood.

“We’re gonna sing Ask by The Smiths first,” Osric said briefly, smiling, before they started playing. The set went well, and Osric only forgot a few words to one of the songs. He just made up words that made sense for that stanza, and nobody really noticed – or at least didn’t comment – on his mistake. Osric thought they sounded pretty good.

After they finished with Just Like Heaven by The Cure, Charlie gave a quick thank you, and then they gathered up their instruments to put away. Osric put his guitar back in its case and helped the drummer roll up the chords they’d used on stage. Once they were done, Sal asked them if they’d like a drink. Most of Charlie’s band accepted easily, though Charlie himself had to leave to go see his girlfriend. Osric was going to leave too, when he spotted a guy behind the desk of the bar. Osric had noticed him before while they were playing, but he hadn’t really looked at him until now, when he was closer.

Osric grinned and made his way over, not believing his eyes. It was Peter, Peter Aramis; the guy had been one of the stars of the basketball team when Osric was at uni! He’d only ever talked to Peter a few times, very briefly, but he definitely knew who he was. He was so cool, and really friendly too. Osric recalled him studying psychology and something else. He even had this amazing roommate, Damon, who Osric had once told out right to that he was gorgeous. Damon had laughed and asked Osric if Osric wanted to fuck him. Osric had said no, of course not; he wondered why people always thought he was gay.

“Peter? Hey, Peter!” Osric cried happily and he reached the bar. “Man, I haven’t seen you in ages! Osric, Osric Young, you remember me? Dude, uni!”

_{William Beckett’s covers
of www.youtube.com/watch?v=n0z0ZW-nJbA <-”Ask,” by the Smiths
and www.youtube.com/watch?v=6_MWrpdb2D0 <-”Just Like Heaven” by The Cure, if you’re interested… Imagine that with a mic and more instruments^^.}

[/i][/b][/sub]

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

Sal O’Bannon was a funny guy. Not humorous funny, but odd funny. He decorated his place like he was trying to transplant Ireland into Brooklyn, and he stocked his alcohol stores so religiously that Peter was sure that some of it was older than he was. But he had to admit that the man knew how to run a business. He kept his prices low, had the kitchen running every night from five to midnight, and he managed to get as much live entertainment into the bar as possible. He didn’t manage it every night, but tonight was one of those nights. Peter liked working live music nights. More people came in, so his tip haul went up. Not to mention that he did like music, especially the old stuff. The group tonight were a bunch of teachers, from what he understood, which meant that they probably wouldn’t be playing Nirvana or any other grunge music. Rap was probably out too. So it wouldn’t be making his ears bleed.

He barely heard a lot of it as he was busy pouring drinks. That was another thing Sal did well. Peter was a draw. He was good looking, young, and liked to listen to people talk. On top of that, he could manage the bar area so his boss could enjoy the show. He was aware when the entertainment stopped, mostly because the people ordering didn’t have to yell at him to be heard. But, as was typical, once the music stopped, a lot of people packed it in. The bar had slowed down enough so the other bartender on tonight – Curtis – was cleaning up a bit so they’d have less to do at closing. Peter even had a rag to wipe up the counter as he worked. Water spots and glass rings were awful to buff off later.

He was working on a particularly bad ring when he heard his name. He barely had time to look up when the guy bounded up to the bar excitedly.

“Peter? Hey, Peter! Man, I haven’t seen you in ages! Osric, Osric Young, you remember me? Dude, uni!”

Peter blinked, thinking quickly. He remembered University – well, most of it – and he had known a lot of people. This kid looked barely old enough to be let into the bar, let alone to have attended university with him. Still, he did seem familiar...

He suddenly recalled a party in his senior year. Damon had drug him along, pointing out a tall kid in the band.

“He told me I was gorgeous, so I asked him if he was going to screw me,” Damon had whispered into his ear. “He said no, but I think he’ll be stretched out in my bed by the end of the week. If you were less stubborn, you could join us...”

At the time he’d brushed his roommate off. Damon said that about everyone who gave him the time of day. He’d thought the kid looked young then, too. He must have been one of those people who didn’t look like they aged at all. He’d talked to him for a few minutes at the party, and then at a couple more, but he’d never struck up a friendship or anything, and when he’d graduated, he’d put the other man out of mind. And here he was, nearly three years later, playing O’Bannon’s. It was a small world.

“Hey,” Peter returned the greeting. “Of course I remember you. How have you been?”

He held his hand out to Osric, figuring he could shake his hand at least.

[OSRIC YOUNG]

Peter looked up, his face surprised. For a second Osric thought that maybe Peter wouldn't recognize him, because after all, they had only talked a few times, and Peter had been so cool, he probably had too many friends to remember someone like him. But he had sung at a bunch of parties he was sure Peter had been at (well, all the basketball guys were usually at least invited to any event serving alcohol and hot chicks), so Osric felt a small sense of relief when Peter, in fact, had not forgotten him.

“Hey. Of course I remember you. How have you been?” Peter said, and held out his hand to shake Osric's. Osric grinned and shook it eagerly. He was nothing short of awful at shaking people's hand, not because he didn't hold firmly enough - he did - but because his arm because was nothing short of floppy when he shook. And it wasn't even his bad arm, he'd always just sucked at keeping his enthusiasm from rushing to his arm when shaking hands.

"Great!" Osric cried happily, dropping Peter's hand and grinning widely. "I've been great, man. So you work in a bar now? That's awesome." Well, sort of. Too many drunk people. Too much alcohol. But still pretty awesome. Bar tenders were usually really nice, too, and Peter was nice, he definitely was, and so he was probably a great bartender!

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

Peter was surprised when his arm was shaken like Osric meant to pull it from his shoulder joint. He thanked god that the weather had been good and he hadn’t done anything to the joint lately, otherwise it would have hurt. He was still grateful when the other man let go of him. Any more of that and he really would have been feeling some pain.

“Great! I've been great, man. So you work in a bar now? That's awesome."

Peter grinned a bit. Yeah, typical small talk. It was what happened when you were in the presence of people you may or may not know, but they certainly didn’t know you, either. In reality, he didn’t mind being a bartender. It was one of those jobs where he could talk to people and it didn’t matter who they were because he wasn’t wearing the badge when he was in the bar.

“It pays the bills and I get to listen to some interesting bands. How about you? Is this your day job now?”

He set the rag down, pulling out a beer from the fridge. He didn’t know if Osric drank or not, but Sal’s rule was that each performer got one beer at the end of the night on the house. They could pay for whatever they liked after that. Peter didn’t drink, personally, but he was good at handing them out.

“It’s on the house,” he stated, setting the beer down.

[OSRIC YOUNG]

Peter smiled and said, “It pays the bills and I get to listen to some interesting bands. How about you? Is this your day job now?”

As Peter turned and started to get something out of his wall of alcohol, Osric answered his question to Peter's back, sitting himself on one of the empty chairs in the front of the counter happily. "Nah, I don't do this most of the time anymore. I work in a music store. And move stuff for people. It pays the bills and I get to watch people listen to some interesting bands," he said, laughing at his own joke. Peter's job sounded more interesting than his. But his were pretty darn interesting.

“It’s on the house,” Peter said, turning around and placing beer in front of Osric on the counter.

He smiled at Peter sheepishly. "I don't really drink anymore man," he said. People drank in bars. He was in a bar. It made sense Peter was offering him a drink. Right. "Sorry, but, thanks anyway." He pushed it across the counter towards Peter. "You can have it if you want though," he offered, because sharing was nice. He giggled, and he sounded like a kid. It was nice to see someone he hadn't seen in so long. Not that he'd really been good friends with Peter in uni, but he sort of knew him. They'd gotten on in their two minute conversations. It reminded him of college, and college was brilliant. He liked to think about college.

Of course, the year after he dropped out was even better. Yeah, good times.

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

“Nah, I don't do this most of the time anymore. I work in a music store. And move stuff for people. It pays the bills and I get to watch people listen to some interesting bands.”

He laughed at his own joke, getting comfortable on a stool. Peter smiled, thinking it was a clever turn of words. Osric’s laugh turned into a sheepish smile as he eyed the beer in front of him. Oh, now that was definitely not the usual way people responded to free alcohol.

"I don't really drink anymore man. Sorry, but, thanks anyway."

Peter watched as he pushed it across the counter, offering it to him instead, giggling a little to himself like he’d done something amusing. Well, he was going to hate to pop the kid’s bubble.

“It’s a small world – I don’t drink, either,” he replied, handing it over to Curtis. He’d do something with it, seeing as how it was opened product. “Thanks, though.”

He could see why Osric would think he did, though. Christ, back in University, Damon had practically poured alcohol down his throat when he would let him. It only happened after basketball season was over, and only when they negotiated it out, but everyone seemed to see him on the odd occasion he was drunk. He had a hard time living it down. When he was drunk – and it never took much to get him that way – he was like a cat. He practically rubbed up against everyone who would let him, soaking up any physical attention. Yeah, Damon really got a kick out of those nights, the jerk. It had taken winning the basketball championship, getting so drunk he couldn’t see straight, and deciding it was a good idea to stalk Perry before he’d had the self-control to just give it up. He was better off.

“How about a soda, then?” he offered, thinking he was entitled to drink something, even if it was non-alcoholic.

[OSRIC YOUNG]

“It’s a small world – I don’t drink, either. Thanks, though," Peter said. Well, that was surprising. Osric was pretty sure Peter had been drunk 50% of the time that he'd seen him outside of a basketball game. Then again, pretty much every time he saw Peter had been at some sort of party where they served alcohol, so it only made sense; he was usually a bit drunk too.

“How about a soda, then?” Peter asked him, and Osric nodded eagerly, happy to take up the offer. Peter was so nice; it was too bad they hadn't been better friends in school.

"Yeah, sure! Um, do you have Sprite? I like that stuff, it's so good. Bubbly and stuff. Well, soda's bubbly," Osric corrected himself, and laughed. "So, how's life been? I thought you were going into psych and, um, kinstology, or something?" Osric laughed again, because he knew perfectly well he was pronouncing the second subject completely wrong, but all he could remember was that it started with a k.

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

"Yeah, sure! Um, do you have Sprite? I like that stuff, it's so good. Bubbly and stuff. Well, soda's bubbly...”

Peter just nodded, turning so he could grab a soda from the cooler. He was pretty excitable, but then, Osric always had been. Little things always seemed amusing to him and he always shared whatever came to mind. Peter didn’t mind. He seemed to know a lot of people with odd traits like that, and he’d be a hypocrite if he claimed to not be one of them. He was wearing his spare set of shoes that he kept at the bar, after all.

"So, how's life been? I thought you were going into psych and, um, kinstology, or something?"

Peter couldn’t help shaking his head as he turned to set the soda in front of a giggling Osric. How had he remembered all of this? Peter couldn’t even remember half of the things he’d been forced to learn, let alone what Osric had taken in University. Kinstology, though? Clearly he didn’t have a memory for subjects, but Peter knew he was talking about Kinesiology – the study of the human body and how it works in relation to physical activity. In short, it was a jock course and the whole basketball team had it as part of their major.

“Life’s been alright, I can’t complain,” he replied, leaning back on the bar. “I graduated with degrees in both of those, actually, but I don’t really do anything with them now.”

He shrugged a bit to himself, not regretting going to university, but neither the NYPD nor O’Bannon’s cared if he had degrees in those fields. He could have done either jobs without them.

“How about yourself? Life’s been good, I hope.”

[OSRIC YOUNG]

“Life’s been alright, I can’t complain,” Peter said, and Osric thanked him for the soda before taking a sip. Oh, bubbles, lovely. “I graduated with degrees in both of those, actually, but I don’t really do anything with them now. How about yourself? Life’s been good, I hope.”

Graduated with two fancy degrees and didn't use them? Now what was the point in that? Peter should have dropped out; had some more fun with the time he spent earning his wasted degree. Osric was never unhappy that he had stopped school. Well, he probably should have stayed, but really, what would he have done with an English degree anyway? He could write his book on Claudius just fine without it.

"Oh yeah," Osric said happily, taking another sip of his soda. He paused, before admitting, "I mean, the band didn't really work out, but that's okay. I'm happy too, I think." He looked at Peter curiously. "Hey are you still with that hot roommate of yours?"

Peter had been so lucky to be able to room with who he did, Osric thought. Damon was probably loads of fun to hang out with, let alone room with. He'd been fun when Osric had seen him. Well, maybe a little gay, but fun anyways. Osric hadn't really minded that much.

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

Peter watched Osric enjoy his soda. He was smiling like it was champaign and Peter wished he could find joy in small things like that. Optimism reigns eternal.

"Oh yeah. I mean, the band didn't really work out, but that's okay. I'm happy too, I think."

Peter nodded. Every band thought they were going to be the next Rolling Stones, but few of them made it that far. But they'd had a hay day in university, which was more than most people could say.

"At least you can look back and say you gave the band a go," Peter pointed out, unhelpfully.

"Hey are you still with that hot roommate of yours?"

Peter blinked. With his hot roommate? Yeah, he'd heard it a lot. People were pretty sure he and Damon were dating during school. Damon never denied it, Peter continuously denied it, but people seemed to believe Damon more than they believed Peter. Damon was a lot better at lying.

"I, uh...no," he half chuckled. "No, we were never together. Damon, believe it or not, grew up. He's a Physiotherapist now and has a fancy apartment in Manhattan, so we rarely cross paths."

They only ever saw each other when Peter couldn't stand the shoulder pain or when Damon "was in the neighborhood" with a tray of coffee and a box of cinnamon rolls. He was still a shameless flirt, and there had been times when Peter had considered breaking the rules just to see what a night with him would be like, but it had never happened.

"You know what it's like - no matter how close you are to someone, you grow up and grow apart," he replied, grabbing a bottle of water for himself. "How about you? Anyone in your life? Girlfriend? Wife? Kids? Dog?"

[OSRIC YOUNG]

Peter looked surprised; Osric wondered why. Perhaps he didn't think Osric remembered Damon. But of course he did, who would forget him?

"I, uh...no," Peter said, looking a little bemused. "No, we were never together.

"Oh," Osric said, quit surprised by this news, and it showed on his face. "Well, okay." But Osric was pretty sure of the short conversation he'd had once with Damon, a few minutes after Damon had asked him if he was gay.

"You know, straight guys don't usually call other guys gorgeous, kid."

"Yeah, but, I'm not gay. And you're with Peter anyway, right?"

Damon snorted. "Yeah, sure."

Osric had a good memory for things in general, and he was pretty sure how that conversation went. But Peter wouldn't lie to him, would he? People don't just lie for no reason. So maybe he was just remembering wrong. Yeah, that was probably it.

"Damon, believe it or not, grew up. He's a Physiotherapist now and has a fancy apartment in Manhattan, so we rarely cross paths. You know what it's like - no matter how close you are to someone, you grow up and grow apart," Peter continued, and yeah, he did know what it was like.

"I get it dude, I mean like, you remember Carl? He's - well he was always kind of an ass hole but now he's really a fucktard. He's a walking sinner," Osric said, making a distasteful face at his old friend. "He's just a stupid druggy now, he doesn't even have a cool job like you and Damon." Osric didn't exactly sound bitter, because, well. He couldn't deny Carl had once been a great friend, even if he was a bit more bitchy than Osric would have liked. But it was hard to remember the good times when what Carl had done was still fresh in his memory.

After all, he had once, in a fit of pique, traced the end of the band back to Carl, because Carl was the one who had done stupid things and left the band, and so then Osric and Hank had to go to that party to look for someone to replace him, and then they drove back home from the party and crashed the car, and then his arm was hurt and Hank was a temporary vegetable, and so the band was over and it was Carl's fault.

Osric had gotten over that vengeful theory after a few minutes and had decided to put his depressing efforts into making rice pudding. It was much more peaceful.

"How about you?"Peter asked, "Anyone in your life? Girlfriend? Wife? Kids? Dog?"

Osric laughed, "Nah. I don't really...No. It'd be fun to have a dog though. Do you have a dog? That'd be so cool. Dogs are awesome man." They were. Wilson had a dog. Wilson's dog was really smart too; he'd taught the little animal to fetch the family's slippers when they were watching a movie together. It was really funny.

_{OOC: Hope you don't mind me writing a tiny bit of Hamon. They were pretty general responses anyone would have, I thought, but I can get rid of them if you like.}

[/i][/b][/sub]

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

"I get it dude, I mean like, you remember Carl? He's - well he was always kind of an ass hole but now he's really a fucktard. He's a walking sinner."

A walking sinner. Peter wondered what Osric could possibly know about sin. No one who was as happy as he was had seen real sin, nor could he judge it in others. As for Carl, he couldn’t recall who that was, if he ever knew. Whatever he did, he clearly wasn’t high in Osric’s opinion. So Peter just kept quiet letting him talk, taking the opportunity to drink his water.

"He's just a stupid druggy now, he doesn't even have a cool job like you and Damon."

“Well, having a job is a help, but I wouldn’t call what I do cool, and what Damon does is flat out boring. Don’t get me wrong – I appreciate his job, and mine,” he added the last part, catching Sal’s eye.

Sal was a good guy. He wouldn’t fire him for that, but he sure would rib him about it later, probably invent some ‘cool’ jobs for him. Shaking his head, Peter turned his attention back to the conversation and was surprised when Osric laughed at his question. He seemed like the kind of guy who would have someone special in his life, possibly kids.

"Nah. I don't really...No.”

Well, that was a bit sad. But he was young. He had time to figure out all of that.

“It'd be fun to have a dog though. Do you have a dog? That'd be so cool. Dogs are awesome man."

Peter grinned. He couldn’t disagree with that. Dogs were pretty awesome. He honestly didn’t know where he would be in life without Baze. He’d have a pretty lonely home.

“Yeah, I’ve got a dog – the same one I had through university,” Peter added, knowing some people knew Baze on sight from his school days. “Baze is going to be eight this year. He’s a Sheppard/Husky mix who outweighs me by about fifteen pounds and he literally controls my TV.”

Yep, he sure filled the apartment with life.

“If you ever do decide to get a dog, I’ll lend you Baze for a week, and you’ll change your mind,” Peter joked. Baze wasn’t so bad. He just...convinced a lot of people that they weren’t ready for pets, but a few others were endeared to him.

“And if you somehow still want a dog, then you’re as crazy as the rest of us.”

He tilted his water bottle up in a salute, taking a drink. Yeah crazy was the word for it.

OOC: No worries Gabby! It worked in the post!

[OSRIC YOUNG]

“Yeah, I’ve got a dog," Peter grinned. "The same one I had through university." Osric felt slightly ashamed for a second, not really remembering Peter ever having a dog, but he supposed it probably would have been out of place to bring a dog to the parties he'd always seen Peter at, and no way would Peter have brought a dog to basketball games, the animal would be kicked out in a second. So he didn't feel too bad about it.

“Baze is going to be eight this year. He’s a Sheppard/Husky mix who outweighs me by about fifteen pounds and he literally controls my TV. If you ever do decide to get a dog, I’ll lend you Baze for a week, and you’ll change your mind,” Peter said, looking amused with himself. "And if you somehow still want a dog, then you’re as crazy as the rest of us.” He lifted his bottle of water up before drinking, as if toasting to mutual craziness. Well, like his father had always said, 'The only people who are normal are the boring ones.' He thought it true.

Osric laughed at Peter's joke and lifted his sprite up as well, and they probably looked quite ridiculous, if the incredulous look of the man sitting on the stool next to Osric was anything to go by.
"Baze sounds great," Osric said, taking a sip of his drink. "Good company. It gets lonely living alone." He didn't mean to sound sad about it, he was simply stating a fact. And yet, even without any depressing tone, it still sounded... empty. "Though I'm not sure anyone would stand me as a housemate," Osric added quickly, not exactly pleased with how pathetic he had just sounded; he hadn't wanted to sound like he was fishing for sympathy, because he really, really wasn't.

The people who lived in the other rooms in his apartment were very nice, and they were mostly all happy to give him extra flour and sugar and such when he went on baking rages after he saw Carl or needed something to do if a client cancelled on him. Well, except that old lady with the cat, she wasn't so nice, but she didn't usually complain when Osric played guitar at night. Only sometimes. And that nice couple across the hall had even hired him to teach their kid how to play drums every other Saturday. It was great. He was fine living alone. Perhaps he liked to sleep at Hank's or Wilson's a bit more than necessary, but they never complained. So neither could he.

[DETECTIVE PETER ARAMIS]

"Baze sounds great. Good company. It gets lonely living alone."

Peter shrugged. He wouldn’t know. He’d never been alone in his life, if you counted Baze. First the ranch was full of people, then Don, and finally Damon before he moved into his own apartment with Baze in tow. He’d never really felt lonely.

"Though I'm not sure anyone would stand me as a housemate,"

He sounded pretty down and out there and Peter had to wonder if he was really as happy as he made himself out to be. Interesting...

“Osric, you can’t be that terrible to live with.”

In all honesty, Peter knew he was the most awful person on earth to live with, so Osric could relax. He kept odd hours, never put anything away, and his dog liked to raise the dead when he was unhappy. Add on the fact that he burned everything he cooked and never bothered to lock the door, and he was sure a roommate would move out. Guy had even found his spare gun under a pile of junk. Peter was sure he had the trophy for worst person to live with after that incident. Not that Guy lived with him – he just cleaned the place – but the point was still there.

“I’m sure there are people out there who would find you to be a good roommate or housemate or whatever.”

He had to have lived with people before. And if he had uptight roommates, that would explain a lot, but not every roommate was perfect. Look at Damon, for example. He was constantly sleeping it off in the room, and when he wasn’t, Peter was his main source of entertainment. He’d done most of his serious studying and paper writing in the library to avoid him when things were due. And the jerk never cracked a book, cheated his way through every test, and somehow managed to get his degree around his avid sex life.

Life was definitely not fair. But the Aramis family motto was ‘Shut up and buck up’ or it should have been because that’s all they ever seemed to do. It was actually “Strenue et Prospere” (Vigor and Success), but who remembered that?

“But in reality, if it weren’t for the high rent in New York, no one would have roommates.”

Now, why did he add that in? He shrugged to himself taking another sip of water, thinking it was probably true...and it was a lot less creepy than his initial urge to ask Osric to move in so someone would show him he wasn’t the worst roommate out there.

[OSRIC YOUNG]

“Osric, you can’t be that terrible to live with," Peter consoled him, and Osric couldn't help but feel the tiniest bit bitter at the way he was sure Peter thought him a little pathetic. Then again, he was pretty sure most people did - they all seemed to look down on him so and it simple wasn't fair; he was tall! - so that was alright. “I’m sure there are people out there who would find you to be a good roommate or housemate or whatever. But in reality, if it weren’t for the high rent in New York, no one would have roommates.”

Osric shrugged, taking a sip of his Sprit and letting the little bubbles fizz out on his tongue before answering, "I set things on fire a lot. Like, the fireplace. Well, I mean, not that you're not supposed to but I do it badly. Like the fire always falls out somehow and I'm not sure why." It was quite true. He had almost burned his house down a few times when he was eleven, thirteen and sixteen and had forgotten to open the shaft before setting the fire. Osric had been pretty sure he was going to die from the smoke each time (and that time that he set the Christmas tree on fire and also that other time when it was the mantle, but really, it wasn't his fault that candle fell over!). Well, maybe that was a lot a bit of an exaggeration, he hadn't been in any real major danger but it had been terrifying at the time and he'd been banned from making fires unsupervised after the Christmas tree incident.

"I'm good at cooking though," he added thoughtfully, not entirely sure whether he was saying this because he was trying to convince himself how not-awful he would be as a housemate or just because the stove was one of the things he'd only set on fire once, and considering how often he used it that was pretty darn good for him. "I really like cooking. Well, baking more, I guess," he corrected himself, smiling. "I don't really get why there's two words for it, do you? But yeah, baking. Sweets. I love sweets." He smiled a bit wider. He really, really liked sugar. A lot. The amount of gummi bears that no single person should have stashed in his cupboards was testament to that. And that fact that he drowned breakfast food in maple syrup sometimes (okay, maybe a lot of times).